


if you're feeling lonely

by ifthat



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Pining, Scenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:15:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27778984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifthat/pseuds/ifthat
Summary: The guest list is on the desk. Louis runs through it and stops a third of the way down, a familiar name catching his attention.Harry Styles.All he needs to do is confirm whetherHarry Stylesis the same Alpha whose scent left such a memorable impression on his body.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 52
Kudos: 483
Collections: Bottom Louis Fic Fest 2020





	if you're feeling lonely

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, I want to thank the BLFF moderators for their patience and support! They are incredible for organizing such a beloved fest.
> 
> To my amazing beta, [Anna](https://louisisfruity.tumblr.com), thank you for your words of encouragement! All errors found are my own. 
> 
> Prompt 394: Soft shy omega Louis lives alone and really misses being safe and sound around an alpha/alpha’s scent. He is especially fond of A!Harry scent, who is a “friend of a friend” that usually hangs around with Louis’s group of friends. Louis being shy doesn’t really talk to Harry at all, just usually admires him from afar and gets as much scent and comfort from him as he can while they hang out with their friends. Somethings happens and obviously they end up together forever.

The modest, one-bedroom flat is empty save for the remaining boxes littering the floor. 

“Are you absolutely sure you and Gigi want to move out?” Louis takes a gradual spin around the living room, mournfully staring at the barren walls. 

It feels wrong, from the lack of furniture to the rugless floor. The flat devoid of the familiarity and warmth he became so accustomed to on his weekly—often, daily—visits.

“For one, we invested a non-refundable down payment,” Zayn explains and continues, nevermind the downturn of Louis’ mouth, “and two, we are engaged.” 

“Do not let the conventional pressures of marriage drive you away from me,” the Omega protests dejectedly. 

As soon as Zayn proposed to Gigi, the two began searching for their escape into a beautiful, three-bedroom, two-bathroom house with an expansive backyard. The house is stunningly beautiful, but in less than a year, Louis finds himself in a predicament. A predicament he actively fuels by providing his help, unable to disregard his disposition to nurture his friends. 

He crouches to inspect a box labeled _pillows_ , picking at the heavy-duty tape inconspicuously. Pretending to examine it while plotting how to strip it without being noticed. “Who will I visit late at night? Who will visit me? You were only one floor away.”

Talking in the past tense further distresses his mood.

“You can still come over and vice versa. Fifteen minutes away with good traffic.” Zayn grasps his waist, hauls him up, and calls out, “Gigi, Louis’ sabotaging our move again!”

“Am not!” He gasps audibly at being discovered, struggling in vain to untangle himself from his hold. Zayn may be slim, but being an Alpha gives him an unfair advantage over Louis, whose strength can’t compete. 

She pops up from the bedroom, smiling. “Remember when he hid our bedsheets in his closet? That was fun.”

“You made it too easy. I have a key to your flat,” he mumbles truthfully. The bedsheets were lost for a total of three days; he counts it as a win and a smart play on his part. 

“I remember, love,” Zayn says as Gigi closes in for a kiss. 

His queue to worm to the floor and crawl away before he gets entangled in their embrace. They look upon him sympathetically as he stands, undoubtedly concerned about his behavior during their last week living in the building.

Displeased with his attitude, he dusts his green overalls, picking at the fabric to avoid eye contact as a small bundle of guilt forms in his chest. He should be more supportive of the two people standing in front of him. 

Zayn must notice because he instantly quells Louis’ increasing worries with a change of subject, “How about we take a break? I’m starving.”

Gigi seconds the statement, “There are only a few boxes left anyway. Movers did all the heavy lifting. We can grab lunch and finish then.”

A touched smile graces Louis’ lips. 

Zayn and Gigi are his closest friends for a reason. If he’s being entirely truthful, they’re his only friends.

Presenting as an Omega deterred Louis’ ability to make long-lasting companions. Grouped into the small percentage of male Omegas in a quaint hometown did not bode well for him. People retained their distance, unfamiliar with his kind. 

He learned how to as well. 

During his first year at university, he only left his dorm room for basic necessities, the odd job and internship, and holidays. 

Fortunately for Louis, Zayn, his roommate, was of a similar type. More outgoing with a variety of friendst yet preferred being indoors. They spent many days and nights together, silently enjoying each other’s company until Zayn invited him out to lunch, plainly stating he was hungry. 

Louis accepted the welcomed change in their routine, spurring their budding friendship into what it is now.

Gigi joined their two-person group in their third year, pushing the Omega outside his comfort zone with her extroverted nature and popularity to experience what it was to enjoy an overpriced, fruity drink inside a rundown club. 

With such a monumental step forward in their relationship, Louis owes it to them to be happy. No. Even as he reels through the effects of their decision, Louis _is_ happy for them.

“Don’t mind me. Just– I’ll miss you both,” he confesses truthfully, tone layered with a vulnerability privy to the two people standing in front of him. “We can finish, then grab lunch.”

“You think we won’t miss you? You need to sleepover whenever you can.” She reaches out to pull him into a hug, swaying him back and forth.

Comfortable and secure, he giggles. The proposition is one Louis’ been looking forward to hearing, still, he interjects, “I’ll let you thoroughly enjoy every room before doing that.”

“Already planning a schedule,” Gigi jokes along with him. 

“The housewarming party! How about you sleepover then?” Zayn ignores their clever remarks with an eye roll. 

For a vastly different reason, Louis lights up with him. Flushed with enthusiasm, he turns it down a noticeable notch to prevent arousing suspicion. “I forgot about that. Who will be there and when is it?”

The couple looks amongst each other, contemplating. Zayn answers, “Friends, family, the usual. Should be in about a month. Invites will go out with the exact date, though.”

Mulling over his ambiguous response, Louis acquiesces with a nod, pretending to be placated even though it gives him no significant information. Like, whether or not the attractive Alpha he sighted at the past three get-togethers he was invited to will be attending. 

Admittedly, he was dragged to the first, but the following two had a compelling incentive. Possibility leans toward yes given his previous appearances. Also, Zayn and Gigi spoke to the Alpha, a short, one-off conversation, but friendly enough to warrant an invitation.

Even so, Louis’ expectations are tame. 

“Great! Hurry it along. You mentioned food, so now I want to eat.” His love life (or, lack thereof) is a hot topic between the couple. Always best to keep his interest in an Alpha to himself for as long as possible.

“It took you twenty minutes to move three small boxes and a lamp down the elevator,” Zayn says.

“You did say I was a big help,” the Omega tuts. “Can’t take it back.”

“Stop arguing,” Gigi chides, ushering him into the hall with a small box of cutlery. “Go before I refuse to reward you with lunch.”

With Zayn and Gigi officially moved out of the building, the frequency of their visits naturally decreases, contributing to the pure, Omega smell forming anew. The scent of both Alphas gradually dissipates along with the muted combination of their pack scent. 

It pulls Louis away from his position on the couch, no longer satisfied with the weight of his blanket on his chest, to bake. Fill the flat with a scent beside his.

There are no recipes he knows off the top of his head to revive and recreate the most comforting scent his nose has smelled. 

But, a coffee cake will do. 

Baking distracts him from the dull ache spreading across his body, too, the stress from being unable to pinpoint what his recent symptoms mean, if they mean anything. 

Zayn is out of the house working on a photoshoot when Gigi invites him over to provide advice on their upcoming party. To avoid the loneliness of his flat, Louis eagerly packs his laptop into his tote to maintain his editing schedule whilst seeing her. Productivity and whatnot. 

The two are hanging at the kitchen island, creating a list of groceries Louis’ partially contributing to. 

“What else do we need?” 

“Hm,” he considers, taking out his earphone and pausing the video. “Alcohol?”

The Omega never guaranteed his suggestions were going to be of use, he blames his lack of party-going experiences. 

“Okay, but,” she emphasizes, “what do people in their late twenties like to drink?”

Because Louis knows what he likes, he says, “Yellow Tail Sparkling Cherry.”

She rolls her eyes with mirth. “Sorry to inform you, babe, but your favorite wine will not be making an appearance. It costs eight pounds.”

After pouting and casting her a woeful expression, Louis leaves his chair to rifle through their refrigerator, their conversation made him thirsty. The inside of the refrigerator is fully stocked. It is beyond Louis why they need any more groceries. “Cheap wine is _as_ good as expensive wine. No, cheap wine is _better_ than expensive wine. A fill for an affordable price.”

She ignores his commentary, frustratedly tapping the pen on her notepad. “What did Karlie serve? Can you remember? You were our plus one.”

“Not really. How about you hire a bartender?” Louis jokes instead of revealing he was too busy enchanted with a stranger to pay attention to anything else. He decides on a glass of lemonade and returns to look over her shoulder. 

“That’s not a bad idea!”

Surprised, his mouth drops. The two are on the wealthier side, a fact that tends to escape him until moments like this, when Gigi is willing to shelve out a couple of hundred pounds for a single night. 

“How big are you planning this party to be, exactly?” Louis expected a small crowd, not a full house. 

“There won’t be more than thirty people.” She notices his apprehension. “You know most of them! They’re friends from work.”

At best, her friends are his acquaintances. 

Lively environments are difficult to navigate with his tendency to withdraw into the background if not for her and Zayn. Chewing on the tip of his thumb, he concedes, “Okay. Sounds reasonable.”

On the bright side, he has the option to turn in early if the night becomes overwhelming. The guest bedrooms are fully furnished, ready to be slept in. However, Louis’ going to leave it as a last resort; he can stress about the intricacies of interacting for one night. 

“Exactly! Okay, drinks are secured. I’ll tell Zayn to take care of it,” she says, hopping onto her phone to speak with her Alpha, likely about the newly added bartender. 

Louis drags his laptop toward him, using the silence to work. Done with one project, he moves onto the next when he’s struck with an unanticipated but eagerly welcomed question. “Gigi! Where’s your guest list?”

“Hang on, love,” she pauses her current conversation. “It should be in our room. What do you need it for?”

“Just curious. I might need to budget money for new outfits!” Louis scurries to the master bedroom excitedly.

She laughs, too preoccupied to examine his motives. “No one coming is like that at all!”

Not in attitude, but their fashion sense will surely make him feel underdressed. Nevermind that, though, Louis’ desperate to solve his burning curiosity.

The guest list is on the desk, scrawled in her handwriting. Louis runs through it and stops a third of the way down, a familiar name catching his attention. 

_Harry Styles_. 

First name is a match, sneakily learned from the sidelines of a conversation within hearing range. His full name is a mystery to Louis, leaving him uncertain. 

All he needs to do is confirm whether _Harry Styles_ is the same Alpha whose scent, dark, ground coffee, left such a memorable impression on his body. Louis accidentally scented him in passing while building the courage to introduce himself. Instead, he released slick unprompted, arousing heat in his belly and forcing him to retreat as fast as possible.

Returning to Gigi, he finds her waiting, eyebrow raised. He opens his mouth, closes it. Then, he tentatively asks, “Is Harry Styles the one with the short curls? Tall, Alpha. He was wearing a long, red coat.”

Louis’ done for. 

She doesn’t respond with an answer. “Why?”

“No reason,” the Omega fumbles for an excuse, blushing, a terrible giveaway. “I noticed him at those parties you invite me to.”

“You think he’s hot,” she states plainly with a growing smile. 

After a loud moment of silence, he whispers a short, “Yes. I do.”

Not the whole truth, but close enough to avoid embarrassing, unnecessary details. He flaps the paper in his hand to quiet what she’s not saying with words, but with the sly look on her face. 

“Stop keeping everything to yourself! To answer your question, yes, that does sound like Harry,” she clarifies.

Beaming, Louis wants to throw himself around her in appreciation, but her demeanor is too smug. Delighted with the results of his prying, he smiles. Reservations of the housewarming party gone, Louis relaxes knowing he has someone to look forward to. 

“Zayn knows him better than I do,” she tacks on teasingly. 

Louis’ brows lift, mouth parting open. “How long have they known each other? He would have brought him to hang around–”

She gracefully interrupts his rambling, “They met only recently. You didn’t miss out.”

“Oh, good to know,” he chirps with a faux pout. “I learned what I wanted to know. I will not be taking questions, because I have no answers.” 

The topic of Harry has dragged on long enough, his attraction to the Alpha too obvious for comfort.

“Not so fast. If you like him, I can introduce you two.”

“No, don’t!” Louis yelps in a rush, eyes widening. “I’ll talk to him at my own pace. Tell him my name. Get to know him. Give him my number. All that.”

She looks on warily, agreeing after a short staredown. “If you don’t approach him, I’ll force you together.”

The Omega believes her wholeheartedly.

Shortly after Louis’ enlightening visit, he decides to go shopping. 

The pain from before returned unexpectedly, except this time, in the form of a mild headache. Shopping will be a treat to himself, he rationalizes. A much-needed break from editing multiple videos at his desk and on the way, he can pick up a present for his favorite, recent homeowners. Definitely not because he rifled through his closet late at night, panicked, and deemed every article of clothing unfit to wear.

A car trip later, Louis’ drifting from store to store, leaving despaired and empty-handed. There are plenty of clothing options to choose from, but nothing stands out.

Unable to resist the thought, Louis wonders what type of Omega the Alpha prefers. Not that he would ever change an aspect of himself for the sake of pleasing his partner, but his desire for a strong, kind Alpha is glaringly present. 

Louis aches for the warmth of an Alpha by his side. Their instinct to protect and hold him. 

He imagines what it would feel like for Harry to kiss him, grip him by the waist, firm, yet gentle until their chests were touching. Both hands sliding down to grope his ass, coaxing slick to drip down his thighs. Because of course, Louis’ soaking wet with a kiss. It would be easy for Louis to follow his lead, bury his nose in the crook of his neck and inhale deeply. 

Pausing abruptly clears the vivid scenario developing in his traitorous mind. Good thing the outlets at noon mean there are scarce people to witness his awkward movements. 

To cool down, he touches the back of his hands to his cheeks.

Little of the affection Louis’ received from Alphas has been romantic. Strings of bad dates with entitled, controlling Alphas drove away any urge to put himself out there. 

If he had a mate, a boyfriend, he would not find himself in public, though, dreaming up inappropriate scenarios of an Alpha he knows only from a distance. Blaming his inherent neediness for becoming so attached, Louis continues to traipse around until he lands inside a promising store. 

A small pile of clothes forms on his arm. Too heavy for him to comfortably carry anymore, he heads inside the fitting room. Two outfits make his scrutinizing cut.

Bags in hand, Louis moves onto the next errand, his favorite body shop. Here, he picks his products with ease. Most if not all are unscented, except his shampoo and conditioner, skin too sensitive for irritating fragrances. 

Though his tolerance for pain is low, the Omega is examining a box of wax strips, contemplating removing the hair on his legs and underarms, when a new display catches his sight.

_Your Alpha’s Scent_.

Intrigued, he moves to stand in front of the display.

Small vials of muted colors line three shelves, labeled with varying scents typically associated with Alphas. One scent in particular peaks his interest. The label promises it has been replicated to mimic the scent of an Alpha, stress relief, and calming effects.

Louis’ mouth thins into a skeptical line, it might be too good to be true with a description like that. The lone employee working interrupts him just as he opens a tester.

“Hello there! I love that scent,” she informs, gesturing to the vial in his hand. “One of our newest endeavors. We wanted Omegas to become more independent with their scenting needs. These are meant to soothe and can be safely used on the skin, in baths, or simply smelled.”

The Omega nods, uncomfortable discussing a hypothetical need with someone he doesn’t know. 

“Interesting,” he comments awkwardly, tightly clutching a _Black Coffee_ vial in hand. 

“Do you need help?” She questions politely. “If you’re looking for a certain scent, I can recommend from our selection or order it to the store.”

Louis shakes his head, then tumbles out, “No. No, thank you. Just this.” 

She takes the proffered basket from him, understanding when he carefully places the vial back on the shelf. 

The day Louis’ been awaiting arrives faster than expected. 

Fiddling nervously with his outfit, the Omega stills to inspect himself in the full-length mirror. Medium wash jeans paired with an ivory, ribbed sweater. A coat of a similar color rests on his bed. Undecided, he tucks and untucks his sweater.

Does he look good? If Zayn and Gigi were here, he would be able to run down to their floor and demand an honest answer. His biased opinion will have to do. 

He feels soft, pretty. 

Checking the time on his laptop grants him an extra ten minutes to agonize about what will come of the night. As he stares at his reflection, perfecting his hair and moisturizing his lips, the fluttering in his tummy grows.

At six fifty, the time Louis set on his phone to leave, he slips on shoes, grabs his coat, and hurries out the door.

Turns out, worrying about arriving on time was pointless because he’s late. Unarguably late with somewhat of a good excuse. 

Halfway down the road, he realized he forgot the present, gorgeously wrapped, topped with a bow because he enjoys gift wrapping. There was no second-guessing returning for it. Then, he made a pit stop at the grocery store to grab his favorite bottle of wine since he was already behind schedule. 

An hour or less later, he slips past the gate, through the open door, and weaves through to the couple’s room where he safely stashes his tote full of goods. He casts a cursory glance around the house to locate a certain Alpha, tiptoeing to see over and between people. Unless he actively searches the entirety of the house, which he will not be doing, his attempt is useless.

Scenting the air won’t work either, various scents meshing to create a neutral smell. 

Louis lingers in case fate happens to be on his side. It isn’t. Instead, he spots Zayn at the bar. 

The Alpha looks over as he approaches, breaking into a cheerful smile. “There you are! What happened? Thought you would be the first to arrive.”

“Sorry,” he apologizes sheepishly. “Forgot some stuff last minute. Your present was one of them.”

“You could’ve come without it,” Zayn reassures. 

Obviously more interested in Louis being here than a present. Well. Wait until he finds out what Louis bought them. 

“Trust me.” He hides a giggle behind his hand. “You'll love it.”

“Oh no,” Zayn moans as the bartender hands him a tray of drinks. Eyelashes fluttering at the ample array of glasses, Louis finally understands why Gigi hired a bartender. “What is it? Tell me.”

“No! Hint: do not open it in front of everyone,” he pipes, biting his lip to tame his smile, he doesn’t want to spoil the surprise. “Also, who are these for?”

“People I’m talking to.” Zayn gestures toward the patio in the backyard. “Come with me.”

“Okay,” Louis hums, hesitant, but grabs two glasses and a beer to lighten the load. 

“I heard,” he starts as they walk, “you have a crush on someone.”

Completely blindsided at the revelation, he gasps and grumbles petulantly, “She told you? This was discussed in private! Couples and their poor secret-keeping skills.”

“She kept the best part to herself,” he huffs. “I don’t know who it is.”

“Oh, good,” Louis sighs, relieved. “I want to see how it goes before telling you.”

“Please,” Zayn says. “I’ve known you longer.”

“That does not give you privilege over Gigi,” he quips.

“It has to.”

“Don't turn on your fiancé like this.” Louis laughs.

Thankfully, Zayn is forced to drop the subject when they reach the patio. A group of people are seated around the fireplace, talking animatedly amongst each other. 

“Whose are these?” He holds both glasses of alcohol away from him, struggling with a beer awkwardly tucked under his arm, flicking a cursory glance around. 

“Left one is mine. Let me help you.”

The drinks in his hand slosh over the rim from disbelief, clear liquid running down his fingers, unable to move as he focuses his gaze on Harry standing to stop in front of Louis strikingly close. An imperceptible shiver courses through his body as the familiar scent envelops him once again.

“Okay,” Louis breathes weakly, studying the soft curls styled over the Alpha’s forehead, parted through the middle and the width of his kind smile, dimples creased into each cheek.

Zayn goes around the fireplace without a hitch all the while Louis’ heart beats too fast, too loud, afraid everyone can hear it.

Harry sets the three drinks on the edge of the fireplace, gently grabs his wrists, and carefully dries each hand with a piece of cloth. Hands warm and sure, wide enough to circle Louis’ wrists whole and over some. 

His fatal mistake is eye contact, however brief, because now he knows the exact shade of green they are. The Alpha stares down intently, still cradling one wrist even though his hands are dry.

_His hands are dry_.

Before any part of his body dares to betray him again, he reluctantly withdraws, hastily muttering, “Thank you,” and seeking Zayn out to sit beside.

Sneaking another subtle peek, he wilts at the unexpected sight—an Omega clinging to Harry, heavily implying their involvement. 

Instantly, he recalls her face from the latest get-together. He suspected the two were friends, but it was too hasty of a presumption given their intimate familiarity.

“This is Louis!” Zayn introduces. “Some of you may already know him, though.”

They receive a small smile and a halfhearted wave. The conversation around him carries on, whereas Louis’ helpless to watch the Alpha he so badly wanted to captivate dote on another Omega. A date or girlfriend. His mate.

They don’t smell bonded. Not all mates are bonded, though. 

The Omega panics through highs and lows attempting to figure out the nature and level of their relationship. Unfortunately, he gets roped into talking when Zayn comments, “Nah, at least not soon. This one is a handful enough.”

“What?” Louis states, confused, tearing his mind away from the chaotic wreck that is his thoughts. 

“They say I'm going to have a baby soon.”

He nods, then turns pink, understanding what Zayn meant to imply. “In my defense, I do not require that much attention.”

“How much attention do you require?” Harry furrows his brows, a teasing tone tinging the serious line of his lips. 

An unexpected question with a response he forcefully swallows. _All of it_ , he craves to say, _all of your attention_. _Give it to me_. 

What he says instead is, “Enough to get me by the day.”

Barbara, he recalls her name, readily inputs, “I fully agree. Only a smidgen, at the least.”

“Is a cuddle in the morning, afternoon, and night enough?” Harry continues to pry, smirking, obviously interested in flustering Louis by the language of his body, leaning forward in his direction. 

A small sound of protest comes out of his mouth. Unbidden, he whines, “Only three cuddles a day?”

“Just want to find out how much is enough.” The Alpha shrugs, charming as all in his ability to pry what the Omega would never confess alone, much less in front of a crowd. 

What are his intentions? To make Louis fall in love with him? 

He answers, thoroughly enjoying their back and forth, “I need–”

“Louis,” Karlie interrupts, words slightly slurred, “why aren’t you drinking? We need another round! Zayn!”

Not realizing she noticed, he explains, “I don’t really care for alcohol. Wine is an exception, though. I brought a–”

“Since you’re so sober, Louis, why don’t you get us another round?” The Omega next to Harry addresses him. In a poor effort to be polite, she tacks on a, “Please.”

Feeling guilty for being so openly charmed by her Alpha, he accepts easily, “Of course. Yeah. Does everyone want to write down what they want on my phone?”

Harry frowns at his date, the two share a weighted look until he says, “I’ll help you. It’s too many drinks to carry alone.”

“I can do it myself,” Louis declines faintly, very aware of the Omega glaring daggers at him.

Visibility conflicted, Harry exhales, casting a contemplative glance at the Omega discreetly tugging on the fabric of his pants.

“See, he has it under control. Don’t you, Louis?” She states with a muted smile. With the way she forms his name in her mouth, he would think it’s a swear. 

“Gigi! My love,” Zayn breaks the tension with a shout toward Gigi, entertaining guests in the living room, holding out his hand for his fiancé to eventually take. “Can you help Louis bring drinks? I would, but I’m tipsy.”

“Alright.” She taps his head, reaches out her hand to Louis, and leads him away from disaster.

Exhausted from watching Harry and the Omega, he escapes, pretending to want food from the kitchen. Instead, he locates Gigi to whisper in her ear, “Can I use a guest room?”

“Go to my bedroom. The other two have coats in ‘em. Are you okay, babe?”

“I need a break from… that,” he sighs. “Gonna take a small nap.”

Drunk, she lovingly pets his cheek. “Fuck him. Don’t forget to lock up behind you.”

Louis agrees with a weak, humorous huff, treading past her. 

With the door closed, he can rub at his ridiculous, watering eyes. Berating himself for assuming Harry would be available. 

He dims the lamp on the bedside table and lays down on the bed.

A loud noise startles the Omega awake. 

“Sorry,” Harry coaxes soothingly, discerning his fright. Calming pheromones permeate the air. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. I was looking for the bathroom and thought it would be a good idea to turn the light off for you.”

Finding words to respond in his bleary state is hard, but he manages, “I’m a guest just as much as you are. Shouldn’t have fallen asleep anyway.”

“You’re more than a guest,” he reassures with an effortless smile. “Zayn and Gigi love you.”

Accepting compliments is not Louis’ specialty, even if they are true, so he diverts the subject. The man in front of him has to stop appealing to every quality he searches for in an Alpha, though. “What time is it?”

“After midnight, closer to one. You must have come in here to escape,” he says, amused.

“No,” Louis denies. He elaborates vaguely when he notes Harry has caught on to his lie, “Okay, yes, I may have wanted time alone. Is everyone still out there?”

“Yeah. People are still arriving,” the Alpha huffs incredulously.

“Here I am missing the whole thing,” the Omega admonishes himself demurely.

“Only beer pong with glass cups. Zayn broke seven cups. Gigi egged him on.”

“Christ, I leave them alone for a second. For a pair of Alphas, their tolerance for alcohol is insanely low.” Louis shakes his head. 

Harry nods, understanding dawning on his face. “They made me clean the mess.” 

“Hosts forcing their guests to work. Truly horrendous. Are you planning to sue?” Louis quips.

“Already contacted my lawyer and the news,” he informs solemnly. 

Louis laughs, then recalls, “Uh, did you want to use their bathroom?”

“Right.” Harry blinks as if remembering what he came and lost himself for. “Please.”

Tucking his socked feet under him, he points out the door at the far end of the room.

The Alpha follows his instructions, granting Louis space to breathe, the strength of his scent consuming him from inside and out. 

“How do you know them?”

That was fast.

The Alpha returns near the bed. Louis gestures for him to sit which he does with no hesitation, prompting him to scoot backward on his bum until his back bumps the headboard.

“They’ve been in my life for years. Met them in university. Zayn was my roommate. Gigi and I shared classes together,” Louis elaborates, unwilling to dwell on Harry’s attentiveness.

“Really?” Harry lifts his eyebrows. “Weird we haven’t met sooner. I know Zayn.”

“Not…” he trails off, pursing his lips, deliberating to tell the truth. “Not exactly.”

Harry scrunches his nose. “Have we? I would have remembered you.”

“I saw you,” Louis pauses, gathering courage to confess, “at Bebe’s. The dinner with Florence. Karlie’s house. I didn’t know you were close with Zayn. To be fair.”

The Alpha feigns a frown, lips plush and inviting. “Do I not look approachable? It must be the face, I’ll work on it.” 

The Omega giggles. “I was… busy.” 

Admiring the Alpha from afar. When talking to him is as easy as this, the two of them sitting on a foreign bed, their knees touching.

“Having fun, drinking. Busy gathering friends left and right. Except me, of course.”

“Tons of friends,” Louis returns playfully. Quieting as he points out, “You were also busy. With someone. I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

Harry understands immediately. “Michelle.”

Louis tamps down the sting of absurd jealousy. “Is she your girlfriend?”

“Just a date,” the Alpha murmurs. 

Expectations, he reminds himself, should remain low.

“Is she waiting for you?” Louis would hate to steal her time with Harry, she deserves to have fun with the person she came with as much as he wants him to stay. 

Harry admits, voice low, “We got into an argument. She left with a friend.”

Refusing to pry further, Louis restrains his curiosity even though he burns to know the cause of their argument—they barely know each other.

“You’ll work through it,” he consoles. Though he means it sincerely, he hopes, terrible as it sounds, they don’t work through it. 

“Not sure about that,” he murmurs under his breath, touching his lip, the rings on his fingers coming into view. “Is this bedroom off limits? Can I stay with you?”

“Uh.” The Omega casts his eyes down, a rush of warmth flooding and satiating a primal part of his need to attract the Alpha. “We can stay here. If the engaged couple gets mad, I’ll place the blame on you.”

“Hey,” he rumbles slowly. “You have best friend privileges. They can’t stay mad at you for long.”

Amused, Louis shrugs. “I suppose I can make a sacrifice this one time.”

“You’re an angel,” Harry praises with no hint of sarcasm Louis can detect. However, with a voice as deep as his, Louis has to choke back the whine in his throat. 

“You’re so lucky I have this,” he sidetracks swiftly, unfolding from his position on the bed to grab his tote from under the desk, whipping out his favorite wine and two snacks, saran-wrapped cookies, and a jar of tangy, dried mango. “Sustenance.”

“Fuck,” Harry swears. “You’re one perfectly prepared little Omega, huh?”

“I. I can be.” Louis’ stomach swoops. “In emergency situations.”

“Should I go for wine glasses?” He continues, handing Harry the bottle to open. 

“If you don’t mind, we can drink from the bottle,” he says, gazing at Louis for a decision.

Faintly, he babbles his agreement, “Yeah. Cleaner that way. Saves water.”

Ever so thoughtful of the possible mess, Harry pops the cork over the sink in the bathroom while Louis peeks at his biceps to observe them tense and flex under the confines of his orange sweater. 

“There.” Harry hands the bottle to Louis, grinning. “Buyer takes first drink.”

The Omega tips it back with care, using both hands, sipping, but feels the cherry red liquid dribble down the corner of his lip.

Tenderly, Harry reaches out to wipe away the rivulet on his chin with his thumb before it can run down his neck. Licks it off with a swipe of his tongue. “Don’t want you to ruin such a pretty sweater.”

“Your turn,” he breathes. 

The line of his jaw is strong and sharp as he ventures for a short sip. Pulls away, reads the label, and asks, “Wow, what is this?”

“The best wine you’ll ever taste,” Louis informs, both of them lowering onto the ground to avoid dirtying the bed. Louis’ never felt more content. Then, he warns in a murmur, “Gonna say this now, I can’t drag you out if you get drunk.”

“I’m driving, so I won’t be drinking much more.”

“What a responsible Alpha.” Louis smiles, pleased. 

His eyes are dark in the dim lighting, voice rough, “Yeah.”

They continue to talk, eating peanut butter cookies and sharing dried mango, jumping from one topic to the other, their childhoods, their similar upbringing in small towns, family, their years in university. Delving into their careers that overlap in the music industry. Louis details his work as a video editor for an independent music artist while Harry writes songs for a label focusing on pop music. 

Louis’ begging Harry to show him songs he’s written, threatening to search his name on Google when the door opens, interrupting them. 

Zayn looks confused. “Am I in the right room?”

He sways on his feet, prompting Louis to stand and steady him. Fortunately, Harry guides Zayn into bed, otherwise, Louis would struggle under the weight of a fully grown Alpha. 

“Is it over?” Louis asks quietly when his eyes begin to close.

“Mm,” Zayn mumbles. “Gigi’s helping ‘em home. Opened your gift. It was so nau–”

Louis shushes him, laughing nervously. He pulls out his phone, sucking in a breath when he reads, “It’s nearing four in the morning.”

“Shit,” Harry curses, equally in disbelief. “I should get home. What about you? You won’t be driving alone, right? I can give you a ride.”

Louis declines with a smile, shivering when they pass the front door into the cold. “I’ll be sleeping here.”

“Good,” Harry approves. 

Determined, he mentally practices asking for more, anything, as they walk side by side. 

When they reach the gate, Harry beats him to it by wrapping his coat around Louis’ shoulders, closing the first button to ensure it stays put, and asking for his number. 

The goosebumps that erupt on his skin are not from the cold. 

Numbers exchanged, the Alpha murmurs, “Coat gives you a reason to keep in touch with me.”

Inside his quaint office, Louis contemplates his arrival. Physically tired even though he slept perfectly fine. The ache in his temples forcing Louis to work in dim lighting. 

He continues to lazily browse his project for final touches, feeling increasingly worse as the morning drags on. With a long sigh, he leans back in his chair, wishing he could curl up, and tries to regain focus. 

Deciding he needs a brief respite from staring at his screen and a boost in energy, he heads to the kitchen. 

Niall spots him and greets, “Hey, Louis.”

“Hi.” Louis rubs his eyes and starts to prepare a cup of tea. “How are you?”

“Wondering if I can send you the link to Sam’s morning routine? Corden keeps sending it back.”

“You know how picky he is,” he explains, wincing discreetly when his vision blurs on his way to the communal table. 

Niall reaches out for Louis. “Christ, you don’t look good to walk on your own.”

“M’ fine. What do you need help with?”

“A couple of tricky graphics,” he states. “Want me to give Corden a heads up? I have two weeks to the deadline anyway.”

If Niall, who he only sees twice a week, is worried for his well being, Louis should be as well. “If I don’t feel better in an hour, I'll head home.”

“You’re such a good employee,” he huffs. “If I was sick, I wouldn't have come in.”

The Omega smiles, appreciating the gesture to uplift his mood. “I’ll take your advice next time.”

Weird thing is, Louis does not feel sick. No runny nose, no cough, no sore throat.

Niall asks dubiously, “Will you be alright?”

“Yeah. Think I’m just tired.” 

“Alright. Let me know if you need anything.” 

The hour drags by painfully slow, very slow, to the point he regrets putting off asking Corden if he could leave early. The brightness of his desktop burns his eyes even at the lowest setting. The audio of the video playing in front of him too loud in his ears. 

Before the hour, he heads to Corden’s office, the senior editor, to inform him of his unexpected departure. He sends Louis home, not without explaining he needs to make up the lost hours.

Louis’ just happy to head home.

After taking over-the-counter medicine to alleviate the dull throb in his head, he changes into sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. Under the sheets, he tosses and turns, unable to rest comfortably. Whining under his breath, he feels increasingly agitated until his eyes happen to land on Harry's coat. Carefully laid out across the back of his reading chair. 

Louis presses it to his face and inhales. The effect is instantaneous, a sense of calmness and relief washing over him.

Both the coat and weighted blanket are dragged into the closet with him, where he rearranges the blanket on the ground before sliding the door closed. He curls into a ball, like he wanted to do back in his office. The closet is small, but Louis’ height and size come in handy, so ihe fits with space to spare. 

Finally, finally, he drapes the coat over him, covering him from head to feet, and digs his nose into the collar where the scent of Alpha is strongest.

However much time he spends inside, Louis’ not sure, losing track of time. He does leave the closet refreshed, absent of dull aches and pains.

Inspired, he researches cookie recipes online for Harry only to be interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing in his hand. Without a chance to check the caller ID, he accidentally answers.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” Harry greets.

“H–hey,” Louis blurts. A few days have passed since they last saw each other. The Alpha sent him three texts, two of them were: _Hiiii it’s me_ and _Wait, you know it’s me_. 

In his excitement, he sent a sleeping face emoji, quickly correcting his mistake with an _i do_ and a thumbs up alongside multiple asterisks. 

Harry laughed at the ordeal, sending _I’m already boring you_. Louis hasn’t lived down his mortification or replied, searching for a way to come back smoothly. 

“What are you doing?” 

A touch of shyness in his tone, Louis asks, “Wait. Why are you calling me?” 

“Well,” Harry drawls deeply, shuffling in the background. “I was writing lyrics for Sarah, then I remembered you haven’t replied and decided to bother you with a call.”

“Right.” He scrunches his nose, embarrassed. “I needed to recover from my terrible texting mishap.”

Harry huffs in amusement. “Have you recovered?”

“No,” he sighs. “To answer your question, I’m trying to bake.”

“Bake? You like baking?” The Alpha prods, interested in learning more.

“Mm, I made the cookies you ate,” Louis confesses timidly.

“No fucking way,” Harry states. “I loved them.”

“I’ll make a batch. Just for you.” Harry ate six of his cookies after Louis insisted he take as many as he liked. 

“I’ll cook for you,” Harry says. “I’ve been practicing a recipe my mom sent me. It’s chicken. And pasta. I would call myself an amateur chef.”

Louis giggles at the cocky Alpha. “Okay, dessert is on me.”

“When are you free?”

It hits Louis, then, how well they get along. Somehow already planning to meet again.

“Uh.” He checks his schedule, drooping at his limited availability. “Friday next week? After five.”

Really, after three, but the two hours are needed to prepare and fix up. 

“Is my flat okay?”

The Omega appreciates the fact that Harry constantly checks in with him, conscious of any precautions he might have. There are none.

“Yep,” Louis squeaks. “What’s the address?”

“I’ll pick you up, ” Harry says. “Where do you live?”

This type of behavior is reserved for courting. This is not a date, though. It isn’t.

“So old fashioned,” he teases, fond, but doesn’t argue because he can hear his smug grin over the phone. 

It happens again. 

In the laundry room, Louis feels an ache overtake his body. Tolerable. Not as bad as the last. Even so, he sits on the drying machine, resting as his clothes dry underneath him.

The Omega can never predict when his unexplained symptoms will crop up, only that he feels frustrated and helpless when they do. 

Back in his room, the coat stares at him while he looks on with shame. Having multiple chances to clean it, Louis’ taken absolutely none. It pains him to wash out the scent. It’s already fading, he isn’t willing to speed the process. 

Struck with the urge to scent and cuddle the coat, he valiantly waits until he eats lunch to set up the closet. The small confines of the closet containing the Alpha’s scent to soothe him as he works on his laptop. 

When Louis emerges feeling better, he decides to go to his physician. He doesn’t think it's normal or healthy to suddenly want to shut himself inside a closet to—well, to nest.

He's been nesting.

The realization motivates Louis to immediately set up an appointment.

Louis’ waiting in the examination room, swinging his feet back and forth, stomach twisting in knots.

“Louis Tomlinson?” The doctor enters with a knock, smiling when Louis nods his confirmation. “The nurse told me you’ve been experiencing unexplained symptoms: fatigue, headaches, body pain. How long has this been going on?”

Pursing his lips, he tries to recall the first time it happened. “A month. Maybe longer. The symptoms are manageable. I didn't think I had reason to worry, it isn’t a daily occurrence.”

The Beta nods, comprehending. “Are you stressed? Work, family…?”

Louis frowns. “No. I mean, the normal amount.”

“Have you experienced any major event recently?”

“No,” Louis stops, amending his answer. “Actually, yes, my friends moved out of my building.”

“Was one of them an Alpha?”

“Both of them, yeah.”

“Were you close with them?” 

He blinks at the onslaught of questions, but figures the Beta needs to get to the root of his problem. “Very close. We visited each other frequently.”

“Okay.” The doctor nods, writing down on her notepad. “What you’re experiencing is a mild form of scent withdrawal.”

“What,” he murmurs faintly.

“Scent withdrawal. Most Omegas experience this when an Alpha has been removed from their life. They are unable to cope with the unexpected loss of security the scent provides,” she elaborates.

“What? They’re not my Alphas, though,” Louis stresses, dumbfounded.

“It can be any Alpha within your circle. Not necessarily a mate or a partner. They’re your friends, correct? You should feel better as your body becomes accustomed to living without the daily dosage of their scents.”

“So, I just have to wait this out,” he supplies, narrowing his eyes.

“Yes and no. I can recommend a scent inhaler to ease your symptoms.”

Wilting at the lack of an immediate solution to his diagnosis, he proposes, “Let’s say I had an Alpha. Would he be able to help me?”

“It'd actually be the quickest way to relieve your symptoms. You’ve already started to adjust since I can smell an Alpha on you. Try to keep their clothes with you. You’ll feel the urge to nest with these items, so don’t fight it. I’ll prescribe you the scent inhaler nonetheless.”

Louis’ stunned, unable to believe Harry has been inadvertently helping him. “You can smell him?”

“His scent is faint, yes. However, it’s enough to make this a mild case of scent withdrawal.”

His behavior, his symptoms, his nesting—it starts to make sense. 

Scent withdrawal, of all things.

Louis’ holding a tupperware of white chocolate, macadamia nut cookies, staring at the coat Harry lent him, forcing himself to take it with him. He has to. It doesn’t belong to him. The scent has faded completely, he had it dry cleaned.

With a torn expression, Louis clutches it to his chest and hurries down where Harry waits outside his car, leaning against the passenger door, the line of shoulders broad. 

“I brought your coat.” Reluctantly, Louis holds it out.

“Oh.” The Alpha seems disappointed, lips twisted downwards.

He babbles, “I had it dry cleaned. My scent should be gone.”

“I like your scent.” Harry opens the door for him. Big, infuriatingly handsome gentleman. “Like honey. A touch of orange. What do you want to listen to?”

What is Louis supposed to say to that? 

The drive to his flat is fast and comfortable. They talk about their day and fight for which radio station to play in the background. Harry circling his wrists to thwart each attempt. 

Stepping into his flat, Louis’ completely overwhelmed in the best way possible by the strong scent of Alpha. 

The smell of food wafting in the air, too, is amazing.

He blinks at the two pots on the stovetop, then, down at the oven baking bread. “You said you were an amateur. This looks very complex.”

“Did I?” Harry asks, one of Louis’ cookies already in hand. “I had to lower your standards.”

“My standards were low the moment you said amateur,” he teases. 

Crumbs of cookie fall on Harry's striped, cozy vest. “My ego can only take so many wounds.”

“You’re fine.”

“Ow,” Harry mutters, touching his chest as he approaches Louis. “You can critique my skills once you’re stuffed.”

They move around the kitchen seamlessly, Harry serving plates while Louis fills their glasses with water. There are lit candles and placemats on the kitchen table, fancy silverware, and a bottle of Louis’ favorite wine. 

Settled down and three bites in, Harry makes him choke on a breath. “What did you buy Zayn and Gigi? I’ve been meaning to ask you since Zayn mentioned it. He looked deliriously happy.”

Louis remains adamant to keep the gift a secret. “I can’t tell you. It was very personal.”

The Alpha furrows his brows, thinking, and bribes, “I'll tell you what I got them.”

“Your gift was probably normal. Mine was entirely outside of what counts as a housewarming gift.”

“Please,” he prods, leaning in, always with a slight pull of his lips. “I can keep a secret.”

“No. I have no proof of that.”

“With this, you will.”

“Fine! Just so you know, I like to tease them.” Louis covers his face, making a noise, regretting his choice to buy it. “It’s scandalous. Dirty.” 

Harry patiently waits for Louis to take a bite of his chicken. A slice of garlic bread is placed on his plate. In the meantime, Harry supplies, “I bought them a waffle maker. A hydrangea bush, too, for the front garden.”

“Perfectly normal and thoughtful. I love flowers.” He doesn’t want to know what Harry will think when he spits out, “Handcuffs. That was my gift.”

Louis eyed them in the window display of a sex shop. When he couldn’t bring himself to go inside and buy a pair, he bought them online. A very useful way to discreetly avoid any unnecessary embarrassment. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he searches for the link and shows the sleek, golden handcuffs to Harry with a blush.

His eyes are unusually dark as he flits them between Louis and the images on the screen. “They’re nice. Sturdy, you can’t break out of those.”

How he knows, Louis’ unsure; he had to read countless reviews to find an acceptable pair. “Got them engraved, too, which wasn’t even offered by the brand. I had to ship them to a separate store with a request to engrave _Tie Me Up_. It was meant to be a little joke between Zayn, Gigi, and my online ordering. Now you wedged your way in.”

Harry tilts his head, smirking, holding back a laugh behind his glass of water. “Didn’t think you’d be into bondage.”

Louis gasps, “Just because I bought it doesn’t mean I had prior knowledge or am interested!”

“That was not a no,” Harry murmurs playfully, enjoying watching Louis squirm in his interrogation. 

Thing is, Louis’ not opposed. 

The mere thought of Harry expertly pinning Louis in place with handcuffs sends a hot flare down his body. Kept in place, Louis would squirm, defenseless underneath his weight. “I’m not sure.”

Harry looks on curiously, softening his mouth.

He looks at his plate, a third of it finished, and ultimately feels comfortable to admit, “I don’t know. I don’t know if I am. Interested.”

“What do you mean?” Harry prods gently. 

“I haven’t had the opportunity. To explore. It’s been a while. Which is probably why… ” Louis stops to gauge his reaction, anything to let him know if he’s divulging too much too soon.

“Don’t feel pressured to tell me,” he murmurs gently, unwilling to push the subject further. 

Louis feels safe. Cared for. “It’s probably why I'm in scent withdrawal. If I had an Alpha, I wouldn't need an inhaler.”

Worry clouds Harry’s expression. Without deliberation, he offers, “Let me help you.”

“Harry, no.” Eyes wide, Louis’ regretful to reject. Sincere and earnest as he sounds, he couldn’t burden Harry even though he desperately wants to say yes, please. 

“It's not your responsibility to help me. I'm not,” he continues in a whisper, “I’m not your Omega.”

“No,” he concurs softly, an indecipherable expression on his face. “But we’re friends, aren’t we? Friends help each other.”

“We’ve known each other for a few days,” he retaliates weakly, walls crumbling. 

“Two weeks and some days. It doesn’t mean I'm not more than willing. Especially if you’re in pain, Louis.” His voice lowers, serious, “I don’t want you to hurt. If you need time to think about it, I’ll be here.”

How does Louis tell Harry he doesn’t want to become more attached than he already is? How does he tell him it would be blurring a boundary already blurred in his heart? He doesn't voice any of what he's thinking. What he says, instead, is, “Okay.”

“Yeah?” Harry breathes. “What can I do?”

“Uh.” Louis plays with his food, suddenly shy. Though he imagined countless scenarios of this exact moment, Louis’ wholly unprepared to live it out. “Some of your clothes. If you could lend them to me. To take to my flat. They would be useful.”

“Tell me what else,” he spurs.

“If you could let me scent you, too,” Louis requests under his breath, loud enough to be heard over the music playing from the speaker in the living room. He rushes to include, “Obviously, if that crosses a line, you don’t have to.”

“I want to,” he reassures, tone soothing and deep, melting any of Louis’ lingering worries. 

The two end up on the couch after dinner. 

Harry sits down first, giving him free range to scent how he prefers, staring intently while Louis struggles to figure out the best position to sit, where his legs and hands should go. 

Ultimately, the Omega loses patience with himself and tucks into the Alpha’s side and digs his nose into his chest. The length of an arm wraps around his shoulders. 

Harry grabs Louis’ left wrist, pulling it across his stomach. His affection is a perk Louis’ become familiar with quickly, taking all he can get. “Anything you want to watch in particular?” 

“I’d thought you’d be softer,” he mumbles.

The clothing Harry wears only hints at what is underneath with no affirmation, but now he knows how solid and toned his chest and torso are. He wants to lift his vest and unbutton his shirt, admire the skin below. 

“Should I take that as a compliment?” Harry asks, bemused, playing with Louis’ hand, linking and unlinking their fingers. The credits of a random film start to play in the background. 

Louis avidly watches their hands, the size of Harry’s engulfing his own. 

“I go to the gym a lot.”

“Such an alpha,” Louis snorts. “Big, strong Alpha likes the gym.”

Harry squeezes Louis’ fingers with a light laugh. “Didn’t say I liked it.”

“I can see it on your face that you do.”

“Your face is in my chest.”

“Stop looking at me, then,” he retaliates, smiling.

“You’ve always got something to say, don’t you?” The Alpha places his left hand on the back of Louis’ neck, intimately resting on the sensitive skin there.

Heat unfurls in Louis’ tummy. He adjusts to feel for the telltale sign of slick. Nothing, yet. “Keep up with me, old man.”

“As opposed to the baby half on my lap,” he says.

“Not a baby,” the Omega breathes.

“Baby,” Harry says, low, repeating it until it turns into something else—a term of endearment. 

Louis’ in his flat when he hears a knock on the door, opens it to reveal Harry. 

The downturn of his lips is obvious. 

Louis pouts in sympathy. “What’s wrong?”

“Had a bad day. Fought with a client. I left in the middle of a writing session.” He throws his arms around Louis and rests his chin on his head. “Do you need to scent?”

“What? No, I’m fine. It’s been two months since my final check-up. Seems like you’re the one that needs it.” The affectionate Alpha clings to him, even as Louis stumbles backward with the weight of him. Harry bends down, sweeping his knees under him with one arm and carrying him to the armchair. 

“Put me down!” Louis yelps, clinging to his shoulders even though he knows the Alpha would never drop him.

“Stop arguing,” Harry dismisses.

Louis’ ass sinks in the space between his legs, a precarious position to be in. “You can't hold me hostage forever.”

“You’ll be free to go soon.”

Sighing, the Omega bares his neck to the Alpha who buries his face in the curve, stubble scratching at his skin, a groan of relief slipping past his mouth. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Louis plays with the soft, loose curls around Harry's ear, fingers slowly following the sharp line of his jaw to touch the prickly hairs of stubble. Trying to make him feel better the same way the Alpha helped him. 

Louis’ symptoms are gone. Harry was the first to know, elated to hear he was cleared of scent withdrawal. They developed such a strong bond, the scenting and tactility continued into their daily routine. 

“You smell good,” he mumbles, lips brushing the sensitive scent glands in his neck. 

Squirming in vain provokes Harry to tighten his hold, strewing an arm across his body, hand resting firmly on the small of his back. “Little honey jar. Slice of orange on the side. That's what you are.”

“Stop avoiding it. Talk about your feelings,” Louis admonishes, utterly endeared and stirring in his sweatpants. 

“You’re just so distracting.”

The Omega doesn’t push for an answer any further, he’ll be here to discuss whenever Harry is ready. “Let me make you tea, then.”

The Alpha opens his mouth and bites the juncture of Louis’ neck and shoulder, an unsaid no.

Fighting his instinct to submit, he tugs Harry’s hair in retaliation. The Alpha doesn’t flinch nor wince. Glued to his neck until Louis declares weakly, “At least let me work.”

With great effort, Harry releases him, allowing Louis to readjust his sweatpants. Laptop secured, he sits upright, still tucked in the space between his thighs. The armchair is cramped, he’ll definitely have trouble working, but he wants to lift his spirits. “Happy?”

“Very much.” Harry wraps both arms around his waist.

“Did they invite you to the dinner party?” Louis asks. 

“I’ll go if you do.”

“Mm, I am. Zayn and Gigi are going. Haven’t seen them in a bit. Too busy with you.” Louis looks back. “We can go together. Want me to drive?”

The same frown from before reappears. “I’ll do it.” 

Worrying the inside of his lip, the Omega notes his demeanor is still off, so he rubs his knee, splitting his attention between the video in front of him and the Alpha behind him. 

“What are you working on?”

“Sam’s music video.”

As Louis works to cut clips, Harry stares at the screen over his shoulder. The sound of their breathing, his hands on the computer, and clips of the video fill the silence. 

“Is this what you’ve been staring at all day? Do you think he’s handsome?” Harry asks, hands skirting over the curves of his waist. Expertly slipping under Louis’ shirt, expanding his hands across the soft give of his belly. 

A little dazed from the question, Louis has trouble responding adequately, “Uh.”

“You can tell me,” he says.

“I think…” Louis inhales when Harry slides his hands dangerously low, fingertips playing with the waistband of his sweats, teasing the sensitive skin there. Where this is going, Louis has no clue. The anticipation is killing him. “He is not unattractive.”

“Think he’d make you feel as good as I could?”

“What do you mean?” The Omega breathes, confused.

“I don’t think he could,” Harry answers for him, shutting his laptop. Pressing close until his chest is flush to Louis’ back, warm and firm behind him. 

“What are we doing?” He murmurs.

Harry kisses the back of his neck, coaxing. “Do you want this?”

Shivering at the gentle brush of lips, Louis moans, “Yes. Please.”

“Fuck, I want you so bad.” The Alpha dips his hand beneath his sweatpants, two fingers toying with his hole, gushing slick between his cheeks.

“Alpha,” Louis moans brokenly, leaning forward, desperately trying to present.

“Cute,'' Harry rumbles, gripping his cock and thumbing the messy slit. “Wet from a little rubbing.” 

Louis gasps from the stimulation on both ends. “You’re. You’re hard, too.” 

“Couldn’t resist you, baby.” Harry groans when Louis reaches back to fumble for the bulge against his ass. “Too tempting.”

“I couldn’t either,” Louis pants, turning around with guiding hands on his hips.

“There you are.” Harry closes in for a kiss, wet and filthy and everything Louis wanted. “I could look at you forever.” 

He whines, “Do something.”

The Alpha plunges two fingers inside his hole, licking at his neck, claiming. He growls, making Louis tremble, “You’re dripping down your thighs, baby. Desperate for something to fill you up.”

“Yeah. Yes, please,” Louis gasps, “please, Alpha.”

“Shit,” Harry hisses, fucking his fingers in and out at a cruel pace. “Go on. Take it out, baby. I know you’re gagging to see it.”

Louis fumbles with shaking hands to release Harry’s cock from the confines of his jeans. Nearly crying when he sees how big it is, the way it throbs in his hand. 

“Give it some love, baby,” Harry orders.

Louis strokes his hand from root to tip, pleased to see Harry tip his head back, a harsh groan slip past his lips.

“M’ gonna,” Louis says, hissing when Harry hooks his fingers upward, nailing his prostate. “Oh, uh. Fuck. You’re gonna make me come.”

The Alpha slips another finger alongside the two inside him, the sounds of his slick being fucked out nasty and loud. “Come on my fingers.”

Louis spills on his thighs with a surprised gasp, cock twitching helplessly. 

“Wait.” Dazed, he reaches for the Alpha. “You’re still hard.”

“I know,” Harry says, kissing his chin, the scent of satisfied Alpha in the air. 

Louis gets on his knees in front of Harry, licking his balls, the underside, and sucks on his tip. 

“Shit,” Harry gasps. “Show me how you suck cock, baby.”

Closing his eyes, Louis lowers his mouth, trying not to choke with the thick girth filling his throat.

Harry places a hand on the back, gripping his hair, not pushing. Louis keeps at it until Harry loses control and fucks forward, gagging him.

“Hold it, baby,” Harry says, “hold it in your throat,” and comes. 

Louis obeys with watering eyes, thoroughly wrecked when he pulls away, a trail of spit and come clinging to his lips.

Harry leans down to kiss him, face tenderly held in his hands. “Perfect. You did so well, baby.” 

They’ve been invited to a dinner party to celebrate one of Gigi’s friends booking an important photoshoot. 

Louis was too lazy to drive himself and Harry was more than willing to take him. They’ve only gotten closer since they slept together. They haven’t kissed again or made anything official, but Louis thinks they’re heading that way. Too shy to bring it up himself, he patiently waits for Harry to make the move.

When they arrive inside the restaurant, the table is full. Only two seats on complete opposite ends are vacant. 

“Want me to ask them to move?” Harry murmurs into Louis’ ear, a hand on his back as they both stare, perplexed. 

“No, I don’t want to bother them. They’re already drinking, too,” Louis points out. 

“M’ gonna be so bored, though,” Harry sighs, pouting. 

“You’ll live,” the Omega tuts before they separate. 

“Louis!” Gigi perks up; he took the seat closest to her and Zayn. 

“Hi, babe.” Louis hugs and kisses both of them. 

“How’s it been going with Harry?” She whispers, eyeing the two of them. Louis’ kept them up to date on everything, including their impromptu romp in the living room. 

“Good.” He smiles shyly. “I think, at least. I really like him.”

“He’s a good Alpha,” Gigi agrees. “I’m happy for you, Lou.”

“Yeah,” Louis sighs as he stares at the Alpha across the table who’s already looking back at him, holding a glass of champagne and pretending to chug it.

Louis laughs and thins his lips when the man next to Harry interrupts their long-distance conversation. The man is an attractive Omega. Louis’ taken back to the housewarming party all over again. Pretty Omegas tend to hang off Harry. Whenever they run an errand together, Omega, Betas, and Alphas alike ogle. 

He hates the feeling of insecurity forming in his stomach. 

Louis focuses on Zayn and Gigi, about their plans to have a baby, suggesting names and offering to decorate any future baby room. Occasionally, meeting eyes with Harry.

“Awh, we should have moved two spaces down,” Karlie comments offhandedly. 

“Why?” Zayn asks. 

“So the lovebirds could sit next to each other.”

Louis flushes, knowing where she’s going with this.

“Who?” Harry frowns. 

“What do you mean, who? You and Louis, obviously.” She rolls her eyes. “You can't stop staring at each other. Gross. I hate being single.”

Because they’re still just friends, Louis has no idea how to respond. They aren’t exactly dating. He doesn’t know what they are. They’re friends with benefits, either. They only had sex once and it was well into their friendship. 

“We’re not together,” Harry says. 

Louis’ heart plummets, ears ringing with a deafening noise. 

“Really?” Barbara asks. “You two are so close, though.”

“Friends can be close,” Harry argues, defensive.

“Uh,” Louis sniffles, voice wobbly. “I have to. Go to the restroom. Excuse me.”

“Babe, are you okay?” Gigi asks quietly, worried. 

Louis nods and hurries toward the exit, devastated. Outside, he breathes in the fresh air to alleviate the hurt clawing at his throat. 

He closes his eyes in defeat when he hears the door open behind him. He knows who it is, who followed him. What does he want? To further rub it in Louis’ face he feels nothing.

“What’s wrong?” The Alpha asks, a wild, desperate look on his face.

Louis explodes, “What’s wrong? Are you serious? What’s wrong is I keep fooling myself into thinking something is going to happen when it isn’t. I know. I shouldn’t have expected anything. But after we– after that I thought we might. I don’t know! Go on a date. Clearly, I was wrong.”

“Louis,” Harry begs, pleads his name. 

“What would you do if I kissed the next Alpha to walk through that door?” Louis cuts him off.

A growl forms in the Alpha’s throat, Louis sees him swallow that instinctive response. “You can do whatever you want.”

Louis’ mouth drops, angry at the blatant lie. Angry at Harry, at himself. He shouts, “Can I?”

An Alpha steps out, cigarette and lighter in hand. An opportunity. Without thinking of the consequence, Louis narrows his eyes at Harry and asks the stranger, “Hey, do you want to kiss me?

“Sure, mate.” Confused, the Alpha agrees with a challenging smile, leaning in until hands grip his waist and pull him away. 

Harry shoves the Alpha. “Piss off. We’re talking.”

“Arguing!” Louis fumes. 

“What the fuck was that? You can't just kiss random Alphas on the street. It’s dangerous!” Harry yells back.

“I can do whatever I want, can’t I?”

Harry swears, “Fuck that. Not when you put yourself in harm’s way.”

Louis bares his teeth, defiant. “Admit it. You’re jealous.”

Harry tilts his head, calm, backing him into a wall. “Why would I be jealous? There’s nothing between us.”

“I don't think I can be friends with you anymore,” Louis murmurs, eyes watering. 

Devastated, Harry whispers, “What?”

“I can't keep. Wanting more. Knowing you don’t feel the same way.”

Louis slips from his loose, stunned grasp and hurries to Zayn and Gigi who take him home.

Too afraid Harry will come and look for him, Louis stays the night with Zayn and Gigi, both Alphas offering him comfort by sleeping in the same bed with him.

The following morning, Louis’ awaken to the smell of breakfast and a gentle knock on the wooden threshold.

“Oh, your eyes, babe,” Gigi coos. Louis stops her less a fresh wave of tears comes upon him. “Right. We made breakfast. Come and eat.”

“Okay,” Louis mumbles, blanket coming with him. 

Zayn pulls him into a hug. “Still crying over that dickhead?”

“It's been one day. Let him cry,” Gigi admonishes. 

“That's still too many.”

“Christ, I don’t know what got into him,” Gigi says.

“Yeah, it was weird,” Zayn continues. 

“What? Why?” Louis asks, still hurting and reeling from unanswered questions.

“Weird how he was acting yesterday. He was clearly courting you,” Zayn elaborates.

“No, he wasn’t.” At the very least, Louis knows this is no longer true. “We’re good friends. Well. We were good friends.”

“First of all, both of you are too gone for each other to stay separated for long. Second of all, yes, he was courting you,” Gigi says. 

“Why do you keep saying that?”

“Okay. Who was the person who set up your little date? The first one you told us about,” Zayn chips in.

“It wasn’t a date,” Louis clarifies.

“Harry set it up, babe. He reached out to you. Your feelings are mutual, trust me,” she reassures. 

Louis plays with the sleeves of his shirt, chewing on his lip as he starts to realize the truth behind their words. “He never said it was a date.”

“It was a date,” Zayn argues. “He offered to help you with scent withdrawal, right?”

“Yes.” Memories flood to the surface of his mind of Harry making the first move. “Oh, he was courting me.” 

Gigi grins, clapping lightly. “Exactly! You’re both dumb. Except he’s a dick for denying it.”

“Knothead,” Louis mutters. “I don’t want anything to do with him.”

“You know that’s not true, babe,” Zayn says. “As much as I want it to be.”

“Yeah,” the Omega sighs, wishing it were as easy as saying it.

The Alpha’s texts, calls, and voicemails are ignored in favor of healing from the raw wounds. Louis misses him, misses talking nonsense, cuddling, their shared space in the kitchen. Scenting him. He’s not ready to forgive what happened outside the restaurant.

Resorting to _Your Alpha’s Scent_ is a petty decision. He buys _Minty Lavender_ even though it burns his nostrils, purposely avoiding their closest match to Harry’s scent. 

At home, he runs a bath and throws five to seven drops of oil into the water. The smell is so pungent, off-putting, Louis wants to drain it. Forget the whole thing. 

In defiance of his need to solely smell like he belongs to Harry, Louis slips into the bath to cover him from shoulders to toe. The scent is meant to linger for one to two days if he doesn’t bathe again. Unsurprisingly, Louis cannot stand the combination of scent and lavender for long. 

A knock on the door sounds as Louis slips into a soft robe. He wasn’t expecting anyone, especially so late at night

Louis toes over to open the door to reveal Harry on the other side. “What are you doing here, Harry?”

“I needed to see you. See if you’re okay. You won’t answer,” Harry pleads. 

“You made it–”

A growl, low and displeased, “What is that?”

“What is what?” He asks.

“That. That smell.” Harry's nostrils flare as he steps in uninvited. Louis places a hand on his chest, preventing him from coming in further. 

“What smell?” Louis demands, then, it hits him. The oil. “It’s not what you’re thinking.”

“I believe you,” Harry rasps, hands on his hips. “You wouldn’t do that, baby, you’re too sweet for me. Fuck, it’s burning my nose.”

Harry tilts his chin to one side, exposing his neck and licking a stripe all along his neck, trying to get rid of the smell, stimulating his scent glands. 

“Harry.” Louis clutches onto him, blunt nails digging into his shoulders. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to smell you,” he says and spins him around to scent the back of his neck.

“Get in the shower.” 

“No,” Louis says, “you have no say over what I do.”

The Alpha stares with expectant eyes, the sad tilt of his mouth tugging at Louis’ heart. It's not fair. It's not. Harry should be on his knees apologizing instead of making ridiculous demands.

The distress in their scents sways Louis’ choice to stomp to the bathroom. The Alpha trails close behind him.

“Are you going to get out?” 

“Not planning to.”

“Fine!” Louis proclaims with confidence, then feels timid untying his robe, nothing underneath to shield him.

“Keep going, baby,” he murmurs.

Louis lets it drop, trying in vain to conceal his half hard cock while Harry dutifully sets up the shower. “You’re not leaving, are you?”

“I have to watch you.” Harry guides him into the shower. “Please.”

Pointedly, Louis grabs a bar of unscented soap and scrubs the fabricated scent on his skin, avoiding his intense gaze following every move. The bulge in his pants is heavy and obvious, watering Louis’ mouth. 

“Lean against the wall,” Harry orders. “Wash everywhere.”

The Omega follows his instructions and slips a soapy finger between his cheeks past his rim, hole begging to be filled.

“Thank you, baby,” the Alpha sighs, relieved. “Get that nasty scent off you.”

“Shut up,” Louis whines. The weight of a body pressing him against the wall causing him to gasp. “You shouldn’t be complaining. I was only trying to make myself feel better.”

“I know, baby.” Harry wraps a strong arm around his waist, peppering kisses along the slope of his shoulders. “I’m sorry. I’m your alpha. Shouldn’t have denied it. Was acting like a knothead.”

“Yeah, you did,” Louis breathes. There are fingers spreading his cheeks, rubbing the soft give of his aching hole. “You should have taken your clothes off.”

“Yeah? And miss any more time being with you? I'm starved,” Harry says, dropping to his knees, rough, wet clothes dragging over his sensitive skin. “Can't believe I don’t know if you taste as sweet as you look.” 

He leans in to lick a wide, wet stripe from his taint to his hole. Fucking his tongue inside with a hungry groan, forcing Louis’ mouth open at the intrusion. “ _Fuck_.”

“That feels good, babe? Tongue up your ass?” Harry hums, arrogant. 

Louis breathes out rapidly, “Yes, yes. Don’t make me come. Not here.”

Louis wants to come on his cock, wants it splitting him open. 

“Anything, baby, what do you want?” Harry presses a parting kiss over his rim, flushing Louis’ face as slick slides down his thighs at the gesture.

“On the bed. I want you to fuck me, Alpha.” Louis reaches up to kiss his mouth, bruised red. 

They fumble their way to Louis’ bed, semi-dried from impatience, caressing each other in the dim lighting. Louis’ soft and loose from being licked open and the water, Harry could fuck him now, but they savor their kisses, starving to renew the affection they gave one another. 

“I want you to come on my cock, baby.”

The Omega hums and spreads his legs, groping for Harry’s fat cock, wanting it inside of him. “Please, I'm ready.”

“You look so pretty when you beg for my cock,” Harry pants, reaching for his cock to feed the head into Louis’ hole, clenching greedily around the girth. The thick length of it slides inside, inch by endless inch until his hips meet Louis’ ass.

Harry fucks him, slow and deep. “You’re mine, baby. I was so stupid.”

“Uh huh, you were,” Louis sniffles, burying his face in his throat. 

Harry finds a pace they both like, hips and balls slap his ass with each thrust. Pinpointing where the pleasure is coming from is hard. Slick gushes out of him with every thrust outward, ruining his sheets. Come beads the tip of his cock, bouncing on his belly untouched. 

Louis comes with a soft moan, closing his eyes through the intensity of spilling. 

It spurs Harry to fuck faster. “Where do you want me to come, baby?”

“In my hole.” Louis shivers through the load of come pumping inside him. Harry fucks him through it, obsessively watching where Louis’ hole clenches pathetically around the Alpha’s fat cock. 

“Don’t leave,” Louis pleads.

“I won’t,” Harry promises fiercely. “I’ll be right here.”

The soft, morning light filtering through the curtains wakes him. He panics with the realization of what happened. 

Harry holds him tighter like he figured out Louis’ internal thought process. “You stayed.”

“How could I leave you? I did it once and I feel fucking awful,” Harry admits with a frown. 

The Omega patiently waits for an explanation, he knows he deserves that much. 

Harry doesn’t hesitate. “I don’t know if I can say anything to repair what I've said. I want to explain, though. Remember I fought with a client? He said I was churning out lyrics better than ever. Best writing he had seen from me.”

Louis nods for the Alpha to continue. “He asked me what was inspiring me. And I thought. You.” 

Floored, he has to ask, “I do?” 

“You do, baby, so much. I had to confirm if it was true. Then, I saw you and you were. Just there. Pretty Omega. You smelled like what I wanted to come home to every day.”

Louis swallows, cups Harry’s cheeks because he can see genuine sorrow in his eyes, “You really hurt me.”

Harry closes his eyes, kisses his hands. “I'm so sorry, baby. I panicked when I realized I'd been courting you. I’ve never fallen so fast for someone. I didn’t want to admit it to myself.”

“Thank you for telling me.” Louis leans in to kiss him. “You’re a good Alpha. You’re my Alpha. Have to make it up to me, though.”

Harry lets out a breath like he thought this was the end. “You’re too good for me. I want to court you, properly this time.”

Louis agrees, giddy, “I'll allow it.”

**Author's Note:**

> My [ tumblr](http://lovehl.tumblr.com), if you want to talk to me!


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